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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25846969">If it’s Not You</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sharing_a_room_with_an_open_fire/pseuds/Sharing_a_room_with_an_open_fire'>Sharing_a_room_with_an_open_fire</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell, Simon Snow &amp; Related Fandoms</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Almost Kiss, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst and Humor, Baz has been snogging blokes for three years in an attempt to get over Simon, Baz has ideas and apparently so does Simon, Baz is as per usual slightly suicidal, Crying, Denial of Feelings, Dramatic Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch, Explicit Sexual Content, Feelings, Happy Ending, Heartbroken Simon Snow, Inappropriate Humor, Jealousy, M/M, Masturbation in Bathroom, Masturbation in Shower, Nothing bad will happen to Baz, POV First Person, POV Simon Snow, POV Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch, Penelope Bunce Knows, Perhaps it's both, Pining, Pining Simon Snow, Pining Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch, Playlist, Sad Simon Snow, Sad Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch, Sexual Fantasy, Simon Snow in Love, Simon and Baz at the Catacombs, Simon is pining too he just doesn't get it, Simon will definitely try to respect Baz’s right to snog anyone he wishes to, Smut, That's what Simon thinks anyway, Wanking is always best during a cold shower, Watford Eighth Year, Who can even tell if the setting is murdery or romantic, only temporarily</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 05:21:14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>9,978</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25846969</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sharing_a_room_with_an_open_fire/pseuds/Sharing_a_room_with_an_open_fire</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <b>[Explicit] 18+ Simon and Baz.</b>
  <br/>
</p><hr/><p>
  <br/>
  <em>I push him against the wall and ravish his lips with mine. They are pleasant but nothing special. In fact, everything about him is bland; from his scent to his taste.<br/><br/>That doesn't stop me from experiencing the most beautiful fantasy. I imagine Alexander’s lips are Snow’s. It’s become a bit of a habit. </em>
  <br/>
</p><hr/><p>Set Watford 8th year. Baz tries to get over his feelings for Simon by snogging someone else. Simon ”accidentally” walks in on Baz, and doesn't know how to cope.<br/><br/><b>Happy Birthday, Sora!</b></p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Dev &amp; Niall &amp; Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch, Penelope Bunce &amp; Simon Snow, Simon Snow &amp; Agatha Wellbelove, Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch &amp; Simon Snow, Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch/Other(s), Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch/Simon Snow</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>55</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>187</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/black_tea_blue_pens/gifts">black_tea_blue_pens</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Dear reader, this is a ”what if” scenario that brilliant Sora came up with: <em>Baz, after realizing back in 5th year that he was in love with Simon, decided to try and get over his feelings by snogging someone else.</em><br/><br/>When I first read Sora’s comment, I knew I had to make it happen one day.<br/></p><hr/><p>Loveliest, Sora. I hope you will enjoy my interpretation of your idea. This fic is going to be ridiculous with a few angsty parts.<br/><br/><b>Feliz cumple, mi amor.</b> 💙<br/><br/>Spotify playlist <a href="https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4AFBNqrFMSgrZtf0emDcE8?si=zZ_p5IamRCiLh5exYtqfng">If it's Not You</a><br/><br/>Lots of thanks to amazing <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/mybluebucketofsnow/pseuds/mybluebucketofsnow">mybluebucketofsnow</a> and <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/Craftybadger1234/pseuds/Craftybadger1234">Craftybadger1234</a> for beta reading and cheering me on through this process.<br/><br/>An extra shootout to <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/shushu_yaoi_lj/pseuds/shushu_yaoi_lj">shushu_yaoi_lj (llamapyjamas)</a>, <a href="http://jyoti96.tumblr.com">jyoti96</a> and <a href="http://imhellakitty.tumblr.com"> imhellakitty</a> for additional support.<br/><br/>You are all wonderful friends. 💙</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <h1>BAZ</h1><p>I push him against the wall and ravish his lips with mine. They are pleasant but nothing special. In fact, everything about him is bland; from his scent to his taste.</p><p>That doesn't stop me from experiencing the most beautiful fantasy. I imagine Alexander’s lips are Snow’s. It’s become a bit of a habit. </p><p>Initially I intended to get over Snow in this manner — by snogging someone else. Except it didn't work. And so I went for another try in a futile attempt to rid myself of my feelings for Snow.</p><p>Nothing helped. Now I simply let myself enjoy a substitute and dream about <em> his </em> lips and <em> his </em> hands.</p><p>Alexander and I don't get to enjoy each other's company for long. </p><p>Snow comes bursting through the door, growling and glaring. His eyes are shooting daggers at us.</p><p>There is just enough space for two people to be comfortable. Now it's practically suffocating. </p><p>It is possible that it has less to do with the fact that there are three people inside and more with Snow’s overpowering presence. </p><p>Snow smells like bacon and homemade cinnamon buns. Except I don't want to bite him at the moment. I want to <em>kiss</em> <em>him</em>. Something I'll never be able to do. </p><p>His magic isn't making it easier for me either. Green fire and brimstone is taking over all my senses and burns me from the inside. </p><p>Simon Snow is the most vicious and deadly fire.   </p><p>I pull my lips away from Alexander and am fairly close to growling back at Snow. This intimate moment was a glorious dream about <em> him </em> before Snow came in and ruined it. </p><p>Don't get me wrong, I’d want nothing more than Snow growling at me. (Simply not in this setting.)</p><p>”I see you are in dire need of this particular cupboard,” I sneer at him and make it good, as I untangle myself from Alexander. </p><p>Snow is as flustered as ever. ”You- No…I- You…shouldn't be here.”</p><p>”Neither should you,” Alexander chimes in, irritated. Though he goes quiet under Snow’s vicious glare.  </p><p>There's nothing to be done about our situation. Whatever reason Snow had for interrupting me, he will never let me get back to it. </p><p>Snow is like a dog with a bone. He isn't going to leave now that he's here. Of that I am sure.  </p><p>Not that I would want to continue snogging, not now. I can't pretend Alexander is Snow when I have the original here, reminding me how much he despises me and how much I love him.</p><p>I suppose it's just as well I take my leave now. There is only so long I can keep up a mask of indifference. </p><p>”Well, gentlemen, this has been rather entertaining,” I declare calm and composed. ”However, I have violin practice to get to.”</p><p>“See you later then,” Alexander says and I nod.</p><p><em> Later</em>.</p><p>I walk straight out of the cupboard without giving Snow a second glance. </p><p>However, he isn't moving even an inch and it's rather crammed in here. Our shoulders brush on my way out and my pathetic undead heart skips a beat. </p><p>I've snogged countless blokes by now and yet a single touch from Snow through our clothing is what sends me shivering from pleasure the most.</p><p>Pathetic isn't a strong enough word to describe this. I need to get away, to get somewhere private where I can let myself fall apart. </p><p>I'm faster than Snow, and not only due to me being a vampire (I don't actually use my vampire strength and speed around him).</p><p>I'm three inches taller than him. That's how I can outrun him at a human pace.</p><p>Unfortunately, I don't get far this time. Snow catches up with me as I'm about to exit the library. </p><p>”You don't have violin practice,” he accuses me, as if I have just committed treason against the Crown.</p><p>I turn towards Snow, narrowing my eyes at him. ”You don’t know that.”</p><p>”Of course I do!” he practically yells. ”I know all of your schedules and any changes you make.”</p><p>”What the bloody hell, Snow?” I try to sound menacing and outraged. I want him to think I'm angry when in reality I'm ready to break down and cry. </p><p>I've always known Snow was relentless in stalking me in a fruitless attempt to uncover non-existing plots against him. Nevertheless, I had no idea he stooped so low. That's a bit extreme, even for him.</p><p>His hate towards me seems to know no borders. It breaks my heart all over again, in a more nuanced, agonising manner; seeping right into my undead heart and shuttering it from the inside. </p><p>”Is he your boyfriend?” Snow asks out of the blue, glaring at me.</p><p>Frankly, I wasn't expecting that question. I'm too stunned and answer truthfully. ”I don't do boyfriends.”</p><p>”Why not?” he presses and something contracts inside my chest in the most unbearable way.</p><p>
  <em> Because my undead heart already belongs to you.  </em>
</p><p>I don't say that out loud, of course. Instead I raise my eyebrow at him and try my best to look condescending. ”What is it to you, Snow?”</p><p>It seems my gaze has made him more furious. His fists are at his sides, practically shaking. I still don’t know what his problem is. I only know that Snow hates me in general. </p><p>Still, this behaviour is most odd. There's no reason for him to react this way. I left his precious Wellbelove alone years ago.</p><p>I never look her way or try to get between them in any manner. And I’ve done nothing but ignore Snow since then. </p><p>I know that the happy couple broke up recently. Regardless, that couldn't have had anything to do with <em> me</em>. They've been having troubles since fifth year. </p><p>Snow has spent the last three years in a state of constant fury, leaking magic throughout the whole school. Whatever problems the golden couple had must have been rather serious.</p><p>I suppose it wouldn't be that out of the ordinary that Snow — newly single and bored — needs to find someone to pick a fight with.</p><p>He isn't going to get it from me. I'm done playing his games. Presenting myself on a silver platter to him. Giving him an enemy to occupy his time with. </p><p>I've been done with that nonsense since spring of our fifth year.</p><p>”Nothing...” he mumbles and his cheeks are the most precious scarlet I've ever seen on him. </p><p>I turn my gaze away from him slightly, scared I myself will blush. But there doesn't seem to be enough blood in me for that. (Thank snakes for small miracles.) </p><p>”I need to know where you're going,” he spits just as I start walking away.</p><p>”None of your bloody business,” I inform him and gift him my best sneer before walking away. </p><p>Snow won't notice my undead heart breaking from this conversation if he's too preoccupied with me insulting him.</p><p>I try to move slowly so Snow won't think I'm running away from him. </p><p>And in the meantime, certain topics keep popping into my head.  </p><p>I haven't gone further than snogging with anyone yet. I have been plenty aroused after kissing and ended up wanking in the washroom alone while thinking about Snow.</p><p>Imagining us together — snogging,<em> him and me</em>. </p><p>Our hard cocks next to each other. Our hands around them, moving in unison while his lips are on mine. Simon would moan into my mouth from pleasure. </p><p>I’d trace kisses along his neck and shoulders, swiping my tongue over every mole my lips would find. </p><p>Simon would moan just from that, bucking his hips into my hand, desperate for more. His cock hard and ready for me.</p><p>Then I’d drop to my knees and take him in my mouth, relishing his aroma and hardness. </p><p>Simon’s hand would end up in my hair, cradling my head carefully. He'd be gentle with me because I would mean that much to him.</p><p>It’d feel wonderful to suck him and listen to his moans. I’d be close to exploding myself just from pleasuring him. </p><p>“Baz…” he would gasp and come in my mouth with a shudder; pulling on my hair desperately because he'd be enjoying himself that much. </p><p>I would finally get to taste Simon, all of him.</p><p>He’d pull me up and kiss me breathless. My aching cock would long for Simon’s hands.</p><p>And then just as I think Simon is planning to finish me off with his hand, he’d whisper, ”I want to feel you inside me.”</p><p>Yes, I have been spending too much time with these pathetic fantasies. Imagining intimate moments with someone who hates me and would never want me is the epitome of my pitiful existence.</p><p>I am a true disgrace to my bloodline. </p><p>What I should have been doing instead is playing out my fantasies with any eligible bloke, interested in <em> me </em> enough to do so. </p><p>There are plenty to choose from. I don’t have any problems in that department. No one believes Snow about me being a vampire. And I am fairly good looking, if I do say so myself.</p><p>I'm not exactly sure why I haven't taken things further with anyone.</p><p>That's a lie. I've been foolishly clinging to hope that one day… </p><p>Well I don't have to worry about that, not anymore. Not when I see fury in his eyes, directed at me in a manner I've never seen before.</p><p>Snow unsettles me in more ways than I thought he could. </p><p>But this is the first time he’s acted like that. I don't want to see anyone or speak to anyone, so I head for the Catacombs — my only safe space. </p><h1>SIMON</h1><p>I find Penny as soon as possible and tell her everything.</p><p>“You want to get Baz expelled for being gay?” she asks and doesn't look happy.</p><p>“What? Of course not.” Why would she even assume that? “I want him to get expelled because he’s been snogging almost all the boys in our year <em> and </em>the year under us and above us too, Penny. Don’t forget about that.”</p><p>She gives me a long unsettling look; her eyes are filled with disapproval. And even if they weren't, I'm terrified holding her gaze most of the time. It's too much.</p><p>Oh. I guess I can see how she might have misinterpreted what I said.</p><p>However, it’s getting dangerous now. I've spent the last three years on edge. Knowing what he is doing. That he has been <em> snogging</em>. I haven't confronted Baz until today. I wasn't planning to either. </p><p>The thought of doing that always terrified me for some reason. (Which is really odd since nothing scares me, not really.)</p><p>But I had enough. I can't handle this anymore. I have been going off more than usual. I almost took down the whole wing of the library when I caught Baz and some seventh year snogging unabashedly for everyone to see.</p><p>I mean. They were hidden in an empty cupboard under the stairs, connected to the library. But anyone could have seen them there if they were to walk by and pick the lock. </p><p>My magic unlocked the door. I am not even sure how. I just thought that I needed to see if Baz was there. I’ve seen him sneak into the cupboard with bloke after bloke for three years now.</p><p>Penny’s gaze on me doesn't waver. It’d be scary if I wasn't somewhat used to it by now.</p><p>”There is no year above us, Simon,” she tells me, although I get the feeling that's not what she was going to say.</p><p>I'm still agitated. ”Last year there was.” I accidentally forgot that we’re in eighth year already.</p><p>Truthfully, I’ve been too busy to notice things like what year or what day it is. It takes a lot of mental power to look for Baz and to endure watching him with all those blokes. Every time I see that I want to kill someone.</p><p>Penny sighs, almost exasperated, “Why does it bother you so much, Simon?”</p><p>“How can you even ask that?” I exclaim, fresh anger burning somewhere inside my stomach. “Baz has clearly put them under a vampire thrall and that means he's dangerous.”</p><p>When our shoulders touched the moment Baz exited the cupboard, my whole body shivered from pleasure of his touch.</p><p>That has never happened to me before, not even when I was snogging Agatha. Why would it feel <em> this </em> good if it wasn't for the vampire thrall? </p><p>Penny rolls her eyes at me. It's because she still doesn't believe that Baz is a vampire. </p><p>“So you think no one would willingly snog Basil?” She pauses then with an odd look on her face. “I could think of at least one person who most definitely would.” </p><p>Penny is obviously speaking of <em> Agatha</em>. </p><p>Agatha broke up with me before the summer holidays. I'm not sure if Baz is interested in girls or not. He was constantly flirting with her, up until spring of our fifth year. </p><p>Then he just stopped. Doesn't look at her anymore. Doesn't look at me either. (Not that I care.)</p><p>Besides it's not that I think no one would want to snog Baz. He’s well fit. If I have to be entirely honest, I think he's the best looking bloke at Watford. I've been envious of him for years. </p><p>Everytime I think of his flawless face and body, my stomach flips...out of <em> pure envy</em>.</p><p>However, I’ve warned every student at school that Baz is a vampire. Why are they snogging him then if it's not a thrall?</p><p>Baz is just trying to show off to me, to get me off my hinges. </p><p>“That’s not what I mean. He’s doing this out of spite. I just know he is.”</p><p>“Spite?” Penny seems to believe me though, because she isn’t rolling her eyes at me like she usually does when I speak about Baz’s latest plot.</p><p>“Yes, to get to me.”</p><p>Penny raises her eyebrow then. I hate how it reminds me of Baz. “And is it…<em> getting </em> to you?”</p><p>I am beyond glad that she is finally taking me seriously.</p><p>“Of course it does,” I say, and feel better for the first time in so long. I can talk to Penelope about this. I knew she’d come around eventually. “He is keeping me distracted in order to trap me.”</p><p>“Oh, Simon…” Penny looks almost pained. “Let Baz be. He isn’t hurting anyone.”</p><p>“He’s hurting <em> me</em>,” I yell at her because I can see now how I was wrong. Penny isn’t on my side. She might never be. Not with this. I still don’t know why.</p><p>“How does watching Baz snogging someone hurt you exactly?”</p><p>”Because he’s snogging someone—” I don’t want to think about her question any longer. My head starts to hurt. I can’t handle this conversation.</p><p>“I have to go,” is what I say instead and leave before Penny starts to protest. I can't risk my magic going off and taking down half the building in the process.</p><p>I run back to the top of the Tower — Baz’s and my room. It feels like home and always brings me solace. Not today though. I'm still too agitated. </p><p>And Baz isn't here. Where did he go? Is he snogging someone else?</p><p>I thought he lied about violin practise because he was hiding something from me. It could be that Baz is just meeting another bloke.</p><p>I leave and spend a few hours looking for him.</p><p>Baz is nowhere to be found. When he doesn't bother showing up for afternoon tea (I almost missed it myself if not for Penny finding me), I head for the Catacombs.</p><p>What if Baz isn't snogging anyone and just plotting against me like he usually does? (Or, well, <em> did </em> until he got too busy for that.)</p><p>Somehow the thought of Baz scheming and not being out there with his hands all over someone calms me down a bit. I know how to handle <em> that</em>.</p><h1>BAZ</h1><p>I must have spent a few hours in the Catacombs already; keeping rats company, crying my eyes out. </p><p>It hasn't helped but it hasn't gotten worse either. </p><p>Perhaps it can't get worse, not anymore. I've finally hit rock bottom. </p><p>If I have to be completely honest, it's easier to breathe in the Catacombs. No one is here to judge me. </p><p>No one here except for me. I can be myself and feel <em> everything</em>. Sometimes I think I need that. To fall apart freely without the constant worry that someone will know how much I'm hurting. </p><p>I don't want people to see me like that. Especially not Simon bloody Snow.</p><p>Don't get me wrong. By no means do I believe that he would gloat at my misery. Simon is too good of a person for that. </p><p>He will, however, pity me. And that is the last thing I need. </p><p>It's quiet all around me and yet I start hearing things. I don't pay that much attention. If I am going mad, there's not much to do about that. </p><p>Besides, why would I even bother?</p><p>I light a flame in my hand and make it twist through my fingers like a snake. It's both calming and exhilarating. It reminds me of Snow.</p><p>Except I am not in any real danger from <em> this </em> fire. I am utterly in control. I won't come too close and burn. Not by accident anyway.</p><p>One <em> deliberate </em> wrong move though. That's what I want after all. For a moment I feel guilt coiling inside my stomach. Would this count as taking an easy way out? </p><p>I don't have a soul anymore. I won't meet Mother again, even in death. </p><p>Perhaps I won't be doing anyone any favours by disappearing. </p><p>Still, one flick of my fingers and I will be free from this pain at the very least. Free from <em> any </em> pain. </p><p>It would be so easy to perish here amidst all the stones. Everything is dusty already. No one will pay attention to ashes. </p><p>An old rhyme comes to mind. I sang it once when Snow hunted me down in the Catacombs in fifth year. </p><p>
  <em> “Ring around the rosie / a pocket full of posies…” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>”Ashes, ashes…” </em>
</p><p>The words are dripping like a poison from my lips, tainted with regret. I wish Snow had put me out of my misery that day.</p><p>If he killed me then and there, it would have spared us both all the unnecessary pain. </p><p>For reasons I will never understand, my mere existence bothers him. I get under Snow’s skin without even trying. He'd be better off the moment I'm gone.</p><p>“<em>Baz</em>—“ I suddenly hear a familiar voice and lift my head in horror. Snow is the last person I wish to see. I dread his pity.</p><p>However, as I watch him squeeze tight the handle of his sword with both hands, I realize that perhaps this is true fate.</p><p>I always thought Snow would be the one to finally end me. And here he is — angry and ready to strike. </p><p>Who knew that some dreams come true after all. </p><p>
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</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Dear reader.<br/><br/>I will do my best to update as soon as possible. But as so many of you know, I've been dealing with several personal crises while depression and isolation are actively messing with my mind. Therefore, I unfortunately can't really guarantee a quick update.<br/><br/>If this chapter made you sad, here are a few <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/series/1866586">SnowBaz explicit double drabbles</a> from ’I love you’ prompts.<br/><br/>If you’d like a bit more of cheering up — here’s my Snowbaz happy stories:<br/><br/><b>Explicit</b>:<br/><br/><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/21792541/chapters/52001164">Summertime</a> — multiple chapters.<br/><br/><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23157277/chapters/55423396">How to lose a straight enemy in 10 easy steps</a> — multiple chapters.<br/><br/><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24917710/chapters/60300532">Liquid Fire (Sex and Blood Remix)</a> — multiple chapters.<br/><br/><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23721121">Wanking my feelings away 2.0 edition</a> — one shot.<br/><br/><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23517976">All it took was one glance</a> — one shot.<br/><br/><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/21646147">Simon’s Summer</a> — one shot.<br/><br/><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/21825082">The happiest moment of my life</a> — one shot (this is a smut part of a longer fic, and can be read separately.)<br/><br/><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24846886/chapters/60106213">Wetter is Better</a> — multiple chapters. (Co-written with <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/abbynormalj/pseuds/abbynormalj">abbynormalj</a>.)<br/><br/><b>Mature</b>:<br/><br/><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26718973/chapters/65180536">Courting is Easy</a> — multiple chapters, (short).<br/><br/><b>Teen</b>:<br/><br/><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23805289/chapters/57193069">He’s not dull</a> — multiple chapters.<br/><br/><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24613699/chapters/59461462">It Can Only Be You</a> — multiple chapters. (Co-written with <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/Theawkwardbibliophile/pseuds/Theawkwardbibliophile">Theawkwardbibliophile</a>.)<br/><br/><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23314567/chapters/55844782">Baz is a cat</a> — short (1,513 words.)<br/><br/></p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <h1>SIMON</h1><p>Baz is sitting on the ground, his back against the stones. Isn’t he cold? </p><p>“<em>Baz— </em>“ I yell when I see him. </p><p>He tilts his head and looks surprised to see me. I thought he would have heard me. I'm not exactly stealthy. Especially not here in the Catacombs, it's a bloody labyrinth. </p><p>His hair falls over his forehead, messier than Baz usually wears it. It suits him more.</p><p>I think Baz was singing earlier, the same bloody song he sang back in the fifth year when I finally tracked him down in the Catacombs. </p><p>That spring I followed Baz for months. I thought I finally had him. I thought that was the beginning of uncovering all his plots.</p><p>In reality it turned out to be the beginning of the end. That was the last time he ever gave me the time of day, the last time he laughed at me.</p><p>Baz stopped speaking to me that week and started snogging blokes instead. </p><p>I suppose it might be more entertaining. I wouldn’t know. I only ever kissed Agatha and there was nothing special about it. (I could never get him out of my mind, not even while snogging my ex-girlfriend.)</p><p>Maybe if it was Baz— </p><p>I shake my head and squeeze the hilt of my sword again.</p><p>“Fancy seeing you here, Snow,” he mumbles without really looking at me. Or maybe he’s looking through me. </p><p>I know a thing or two about being invisible. It’s not as fun as people might think. That’s how it is for me every summer in the Normal world. </p><p>Only back at Watford do I ever feel like I matter. </p><p>I used to spend hours at a time staring at Baz, wondering what he was up to, what he was scheming. And he’d always look at me, to make sure I was watching. But then he stopped. </p><p>Baz ruined Watford for me. He made me feel invisible for three fucking years. And I am so tired of everything. </p><p>I’m tired of being angry and frustrated. I’m tired of staying up at night, wondering if Baz isn’t in bed because he’s in the Catacombs feeding, scheming against me, or with a bloke. </p><p>I want to just slice him in two. I’m not entirely sure who I’m talking about anymore. Someone. Anyone. Not Baz. My sword dips and tears start welling in my eyes.</p><p><em> No</em>.</p><p>“What are you doing here?” is the only thing I manage to say, or scream maybe. </p><p>I’ve been feeling too much lately. I feel like I’m about to burst and my magic isn't helping.</p><p>If I go off in here, Baz and I will probably die. Not from my magic. From the tunnels collapsing. I take a deep breath, trying to steady myself.</p><p>“I could ask you the same.” Baz looks bored as he glances at my sword. “Why <em> are </em>you here? To finally finish what you started?”</p><p>Baz stands up and when I smell the faint scent of cedar and bergamot, something that is utterly <em>him</em>, my stomach tightens. </p><p>Slowly Baz reaches for his hair and moves it off his forehead with his long fingers, and I feel a blush creep up my cheeks.</p><p>I squeeze the hilt of my sword tighter. It's too much. <em> He </em> is too much. </p><p>“I—  “ What should I say? I want to ask him if he is here to plan my death or if he’s meeting someone. I can’t. The words get stuck in my throat. </p><p>Baz is here alone. Plotting? Waiting for a bloke? Maybe I don't want to know. </p><p>He steps into my reach and I swallow. </p><p>“Tell me.” His voice sounds so faint and I don’t know why that is. Is he too much in his own head or is he upset? Or both? </p><p>Sometimes I lie in my bed for hours at a time, wondering what occupies his thoughts, what Baz spends his days and nights pondering about. </p><p>What is most important to him or who? (I'm not sure I want to know.) (He said he doesn't do boyfriends, I remind myself. And it's better somehow. That means he's not in love.)</p><p>I look at Baz closely, trying to understand what is happening with him exactly today. He’s so near and I see streaks of tears on his cheeks. I didn’t know that he was crying. </p><p>Has someone hurt him? I’ll kill anyone who’d dare! All I have to offer is killing.</p><p>There is nothing else for me to give. And yet, in this moment all my senses scream at me to put my arms around Baz, to hold him close, to make sure he'll be alright. </p><p>I hear rather than see my sword falling to the ground. It jolts me back to reality. </p><p>Baz wouldn't want me to do any of that. I'm the last person he’d want to be near. I’m always the one going after <em> him </em> while he, in the best case scenario, is simply bored by me.</p><p>I take a step back, hitting the wall with my back. Except Baz follows after for some reason. He’s looking at me in a way I can never understand.</p><p>But there’s something more this time, something new and intense in his eyes. Suddenly, I’m not getting enough air.</p><p>My breath gets caught in my throat as if an elephant is standing on my chest, pushing on my ribcage. I glance down. There's only my cross.</p><p>”This trinket won't save you,” Baz spits, as he takes hold of it, and yanks the chain off. </p><p>Baz must have hurt himself, because he flinches and his eyes twitch. I don’t have time to ask him about it before he continues. ”There is only one way you can ever be safe from me.”</p><p>He practically has me pinned against the stone wall now, his eyes piercing mine. Baz’s hands come up to rest on the wall on either side of my head as he looms over me. His face is so close.</p><p>My heart pounds too fast, like a hummingbird. I think I've heard somewhere that their heart rate is the fastest on the planet. </p><p>I know objectively I should be afraid right now — alone in the Catacombs with a vampire. And I am afraid. But not of Baz.</p><p>I’m afraid of myself, because I start to notice all the details I've spent years trying not to think about.</p><p>It's overwhelming and yet not enough. How can that even be?</p><p>A few wayward strands are falling over Baz’s eyes. I fight the urge to reach out and move them away. To tuck them behind his ear. To trace his cheek and his neck with my fingers. To wind my hand in his hair.</p><p>Baz holds my gaze and my cheeks burn more than ever before. I think my whole body is on fire, every fibre of me screaming, revolting against the distance between me and him.</p><p>The wall is cold and wet against my back and yet I only truly sense the space that separates us. </p><p>As I inhale the air between us, the scent of him so close, my heart skips a beat. </p><p>I'm not sure what is happening exactly. But his ocean deep grey eyes have never looked this beautiful. It's not because he's been crying.</p><p>I think it's because we’ve never been this intimate with each other; not without us fighting. (Which now that I think about it, might not be the best intimacy.)</p><p>It's quiet now and his eyes have my full attention. I don't think I could look away even if I tried. </p><p>When Baz leans in, for just a moment it seems as though he's going to kiss me. I thought he hated me, I thought I meant nothing to him. </p><p>However, I don't have time to think properly about how this is even possible. My whole body starts to tremble, craving his touch. My breath catches. And I close my eyes involuntarily. </p><p>I feel the huff of air on my lips and can almost taste it — <em> him</em>.</p><p>”Do it,” he says, “we both know you want to.” It comes out hoarse and breathless and my stomach flips completely. </p><p>I think Baz is asking me to kiss him. How does he know that I want to? I didn't even know it <em> myself</em>. Not until now. Not really. (Although I probably should have.)</p><p>”Kill me, Snow. Run your sword through my heart.”</p><p>”W-what?” I stammer. I must be too dazed to hear him correctly. </p><p>”There’s no one around. It's your chance to finally finish me off.” His voice doesn't even break when he says it.</p><p>What the bloody hell?</p><p>My eyes fly open in an instant. I don't bother telling Baz that it's not the kind of ’finishing him off’ that I have on my mind right now. </p><p>Fresh anger and shame boils inside me. </p><p>Is that what Baz thinks of me? That I'm nothing but a killer? That I'm a monster? Of fucking course. Everyone does after all.</p><p>Why should he be different? Why should he think better of me? He never did before after all.</p><p>“You’re mad,” I wanted to scream, instead it comes out as a breathless mumble.</p><p>”I’m a vampire, Snow,” Baz says with a sneer on his lips. I look at them — his lips — full and beautiful, and wish I didn’t after I hear his next words. “There. You have a cause now. Rid the world of the monster.” </p><p>My eyes fly to his. They flash, wild and hard. There are no more tears for him, but there will be for me. I am on the brink of crying and I hate everything about this situation. </p><p>”Kill me and be done with it,” he continues. I can’t listen to him.</p><p>I don't want to kiss Baz anymore. I want to throttle him with my bare hands.</p><p>”Sod <em> off</em>, Baz,” I spit and shove him away. He doesn't fall. I'm not sure I’d care if he had. (That’s a lie and I hate that too.)</p><p>As I walk away, tears stream down my cheeks. </p><p>He's such a bastard. </p><p>I try mercifully to pretend that Baz put me under a thrall earlier. When I wanted nothing more than to kiss him. It sounds less and less realistic with each step I take. </p><hr/><p>I head towards Mummers and run up the stairs of the Tower; fuming with anger. </p><p>How dare Baz tell me he's a vampire just so I would kill him? How dare he treat me like that?</p><p>I hate everything about him. I hate him. (I’m not sure I do.)</p><p>My magic is getting out of control, almost suffocating me. I’m surprised I haven’t caught fire yet, because everything burns inside of me.</p><p>My skin itches and everything hurts. My clothes cling uncomfortably to me and every movement of the fabric sends a painful jolt through me. </p><p>As soon as I am through the door of our room, I shed all my clothing off. It’s better when I'm less restricted, but I’m far from alright.</p><p>I let my magic course through me. But I still feel like I’ve got no boundaries left. Like I’m blurred at the edges.</p><p>What I need is to calm down.</p><p>So I do the most logical thing. I walk into the ensuite and get in the shower to have a good wank and clear my mind. </p><p>The water is chilly against my skin and that already helps. It's comforting and soothing, as if someone holds me in cool arms. (I try not to think about that.)</p><p>My cock starts to swell at the sensation and I just go with it without pondering as to why cold water does this much for me.</p><p>I lean against the tiles, steadying myself with one hand and close my eyes, searching for the best fantasy. The kind that will satisfy me the most. </p><p>As I'm stroking myself, all I can see are full lips curled into a perfect sneer and my heart skips a beat. I've been wanking while thinking about that mouth since fifth year. </p><p>I start to imagine those lips wrapping around my cock; moving along the shaft, swallowing me whole. </p><p>It's amazing and I let myself enjoy everything about this very beautiful dream. </p><p>As I'm fantasising about the most gorgeous lips I've ever seen, for the first time today everything feels calm and good. My mind starts to relax and expand on the fantasy. </p><p>That's when I see: grey eyes, black hair, grey skin and the most accomplished sneer in the world.</p><p>
  <em> Bloody hell. </em>
</p><p>”Fuck… Fuck… Fuck…” This isn't happening.</p><p>I'm fantasising about Baz and I want to stop thinking about him. Except I can't. Everything feels better, hotter, more real than it ever felt before. </p><p>Baz cups my cheeks while his long fingers slip through my hair. And he’s so close I feel his breath on mine.</p><p>“Kiss me, Simon,” he’d lean in and whisper in my ear. “We both know you want to.” My first name on his lips. I could have come from just that.</p><p>Maybe I should stop. I don’t.</p><p>Instead I imagine leaning in and kissing Baz. He’d smile and laugh right into my mouth. A happy laugh. Or any really, as long as he's laughing. </p><p>Baz’s lips would be on mine, kissing me and biting on my lower lip. He’d give it a good tug with his teeth and then kiss me again while his hand wanders towards my cock.</p><p>Baz would take a hold of my shaft and start stroking me with his elegant fingers. His other hand would stay in my hair, tugging slightly.</p><p>I’d get him off too, pulling on his (I assume) flawless cock, while my other hand is on his ripped stomach, tracing all the muscles with my fingertips. </p><p>I'm fairly sure it's not the first time my brain tried to drift towards this fantasy.</p><p>Especially the part about Baz’s stomach. I've been admiring it for years. My stomach would tighten every time I saw Baz on the pitch running, sweaty, graceful and gorgeous. </p><p>He's so bloody fit.</p><p>The fact that Baz is a footballer is really doing something extra to me. And yet, I’d want him even if he wasn't athletic. (I try not to overthink why that might be so and simply enjoy my fantasy.)  </p><p>Baz would thrust himself into my hand and moan as I stroke him.</p><p>I’d move my other hand from his flawless stomach to his flawless hair and make a fist. Baz would gasp and jam his face into mine, kissing me hungrily. I’d pick up the pace, pulling faster on his cock.</p><p>“Oh Simon,” he’d moan right into my mouth and kiss me again until we are both breathless. </p><p>And just as fantasy-Baz comes all over my hand and my stomach, I spill all over the bathtub and swear.</p><p>Realistically I must have always known it’s Baz I think about while wanking. I’m always thinking about him. It’s not a hard stretch to believe that he ended up in my most intimate fantasies as well. </p><p>Afterall, my whole world has been spinning around Baz for years. </p><p>So the problem isn’t me wanking to images of Baz. The problem is I have no idea what to do with it. </p><p>If it was only purely physical, simply because Baz is fit (he is — <em> very</em>), it might not have been an actual problem.</p><p>People wank to photographs of celebrities all the time. (I’ve heard boys talk about that at the care homes.) There’s nothing odd about it. Because it doesn’t mean anything. </p><p>Except it does in my case. In the Catacombs, I wanted <em> badly </em> for Baz to kiss me. I thought he was going to. And then I got angry and sad because he didn’t.</p><p>I want him and it’s more than physical. My panicked mind tries to grasp how long I've wanted this.</p><p>I’d say that I didn’t — that the possibility just now occurred to me for the first time. But if that’s true, then why is there a list in my head of all the things I’ve always wanted to do to Baz?</p><p>And those things...they all seem suspiciously romantic. Like hold his hand, kiss the tips of his fingers, then his palm; his lips and his cock too. I want to feel Baz hard and aching against me. </p><p>And I also really want to smell his hair. I know how it smells, courtesy of me sniffing his shampoo for years. I still want to smell it <em>on</em> <em>him</em>, to experience that first hand. </p><p>I may not be experienced when it comes to romantic feelings but even I know what this is. </p><p>I can't pretend that I hate him any longer. I’m in love with him.</p><p>To finally admit this to myself is not freeing in the least. It’s terrifying. It leaves me vulnerable. Something I prefer to avoid at any cost. </p><p>However, it's not possible anymore. I cannot pretend that I hate Baz. Not now.</p><p>On the bright side, my magic has calmed down. I suppose that’s something. </p><p>I rinse off under the spray and step out of the bathtub. </p><p>I don’t want to think too much right now and try to busy myself by brushing my teeth. It doesn’t really help, my hands are shaking and I almost drop the toothbrush on the floor. I exit the ensuite still agitated.</p><p>Thankfully my skin isn’t itching anymore. But I’m still running too hot and get dressed in my pyjama bottoms. </p><p>I don’t have to be a seer to know that this — me being in love with Baz — is a very bad problem. </p><p>He'll never go for me. Baz told me himself that he doesn’t do boyfriends. (I thought that was a good thing. I don't anymore.)</p><p>Besides, Baz has snogged many blokes and never in the duration of three years has he indicated that he’d be up for snogging <em> me</em>. </p><p>I roll in my bed from side to side thinking about Baz. How I love him and he wouldn’t even kiss me. How he doesn’t want anything to do with me. </p><p>Although, that’s not quite right. Baz wanted me to end his life today with my sword. Because that is all I’m good for — killing.</p><p>I can’t do that to him. I am not sure I ever could. I hurt him loads, we did that to each other. <em> Once</em>. </p><p>Then three years ago it all stopped. Baz stopped hurting me. Well, not really. He still hurt me every time I saw him sneak away with a bloke. </p><p>I clench my fists at the thought and sigh bitterly. Tossing around the bed isn't helping. It just makes it worse somehow. I can't stop the tears.</p><p>I wish I was still in the dark. I wish I hadn’t admitted to myself that I'm in love with him. Hopelessly in love.</p><p>Baz will never snog <em> me </em> and he sure as hell will never love someone like me. Someone who kills at least once a year. I won’t do that to him. Nor will I ever hurt him again.</p><p>I turn and lie on my side, and bring my knees toward my chest, my arms around them. It almost helps me to keep myself in one piece. To not break completely. </p><p>But not quite. I close my eyes, my body heaves through the sobs. I don’t try to stop crying, not this time. I let the tears fall and hope it will feel better and solve something. (I know it will not.)</p><p>Not until hours later do I drift off to sleep; heart broken and exhausted.</p><p>Baz is still not back by then.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <h1>BAZ</h1><p>After Snow leaves I light a flame and make it twist through my fingers like a snake. But I don't try to set myself on fire. My earlier behaviour before he showed up was foolish.</p><p>I can’t miss out on my only chance. Snow has to kill me himself.</p><p>That is the closest intimate interaction I’ll ever have with him after all. It's my last wish or will or whatever the Normals call it. The best, most festive ending to my dreadful existence.</p><p>I thought he would do it today. He didn't. (I got my hopes up prematurely.) In truth, I've not the slightest idea why he refused. I gave him every advantage and cause to do so.</p><p>Perhaps Snow wants a spectacle and a crowd of villagers cheering him on the moment he rids the world of me... And Fiona calls <em>me</em> dramatic. I roll my eyes even though there's no one around.</p><p>I suppose I'm in no hurry and can afford to wait for whenever it's convenient for him.</p><p>Still, I just wish Snow would hurry the fuck up and do it already. Despite my better judgement, I doubt my self-restraint can last forever.</p><p>It's getting late but I stay a few more hours at the Catacombs, and drain a total of eleven rats. It doesn’t satisfy my thirst.</p><p>Blood is a poor substitute for what I really want. I'm not quite sure what exactly happened earlier when Snow and I were standing next to each other.</p><p>For a moment, not even a split second I thought… I don't know. It doesn't matter. What does is that I am more rattled <em>now</em> than before Snow found me.</p><p>Frankly, I cannot face him right now. The whole interaction has unsettled me — him so close and yet so far away.</p><p>We were breathing the same air which was glorious in itself, but slightly overshadowed by his visible hatred towards me.</p><p>He knows I'm a vampire. I confirmed it myself. I wonder if he will look at me differently after today. Snow has suspected what I am for years. But not until now has he had a definite proof — <em>my confession</em>.</p><p>He was nervous and scared too, I think. His heart was beating too fast. And yet he hasn’t ended me.</p><p>Perhaps this is how things are supposed to be. It's possible that fate has more in store for me. I haven’t suffered enough, I’m not broken completely yet.</p><p>I wonder what it will take for my utter annihilation. Maybe for the golden couple to ride into the sunset on their wedding day...</p><p>Yes, I am well aware they broke up. However, Wellbelove will take Snow back sooner rather than later. Who’d willingly say no to spending their entire life with Simon Snow?</p><p>Simon is as bright as the sun itself and just as selfless. Bringing hope and light in the darkness.</p><p>He is life and everything that is good in this world.</p><p>I wish he killed me already. I don’t want to think about him and Wellbelove, picturing their happily ever after.</p><p>Would he take her last name I wonder? Or would she take his?</p><p>Both options break my heart equally. Simon will never be mine. Not that I ever dared to hope… I'm not that naive or foolish. He used to despise me long before he discovered I'm a monster. Snow <em>knows</em> it now without a shadow of a doubt.</p><p>I glance down at my palm. There is a cross-shaped burn mark on it.</p><p>The cross is lying a few feet away. I gingerly pick it up by the chain. The rattling feeling in my throat is back. I let myself enjoy it.</p><p>That's how it feels to be near to Simon — painful, almost unbearable and yet I'm always stepping too close. One day I'll burn. Not yet apparently.</p><p>I pick up his sword as well. I can't believe Snow left it here.</p><p>Is there a catch? Does he want me to attack him so he can kill me in self defence with his bare hands and prove to everyone once and for all that he is the hero of this story that is my nightmare?</p><p>When it's after midnight and I'm certain Snow is asleep, I leave for the Tower. No doubt sleep won’t come easy to me, if even.</p><p>For a moment I hesitate, with my hand still on the doorknob. What if he's still awake?</p><p>I can’t face him at the moment. I try to listen to the silence. Nothing. I’m not sure if I could hear him on the other side of the room.</p><p>I take a deep breath and enter. Simon is sound asleep.</p><p><em>Good</em>.</p><p>I put Snow’s sword by the foot of his bed and his cross on the nightstand. I chance a glance towards him.</p><p>The moon is bright — illuminating his face. I could have seen him regardless. My eyesight is better than that of a human.</p><p>Simon is so beautiful it hurts. In the moonlight his skin looks grey like mine but it doesn't detract from his beauty.</p><p>His bronze hair is spilling in a crush of curls on the pillow. His nose is wrinkled just so. Simon does that when he is thinking. And sometimes while sleeping. I think he might be dreaming.</p><p>I believe it is a good dream. A small smile is colouring his gorgeous lips and there is no tension in his body. Not like usual when he has a nightmare.</p><p>I let myself watch him for a few more minutes and then quietly start to get ready for bed.</p><p>Simon is still smiling by the time I lie down. And against my better judgment, I sneak a few more glances his way.</p><p>“Please… Kiss me…” he murmurs in his sleep and my undead heart breaks a bit more.</p><p>Snow is dreaming about Wellbelove. This is the first time I’ve heard it. I wish I hadn't. It seems I cannot escape pain no matter how much I try.</p><p>Without a second thought, I turn around, pretending there are no tears in my eyes, even though he is fast asleep and can’t see them fall.</p><p>I am well aware that I'm crying yet again over one Simon Snow. The boy that is destined to bring my damnation. Except, he already has.</p><p>Is this Hell? Watching him fawn over Wellbelove? Did I die and this is the afterlife I deserve for being a vampire?</p><p>I take a deep breath in. And then breath out as slowly as possible, trying to stop my tears to no avail. If anything it's getting worse.</p><p>Aleister Crowley. When will I stop being this pathetic?</p><p>Simon Snow will kill me and go on living happily ever after with Wellbelove — his golden princess. I sigh bitterly through the tears.</p><p>The world I live in will never change. Perhaps I should. I stifle my quiet sobs and take another deep breath.</p><p>Everything is worse than ever, today was <em>too</em> <em>much</em>. I can't deal with this. I want to lose myself in any way I can.</p><p>Because I'm done being a nuisance, a lovesick fool. <em>I'm done.</em></p><p>Tomorrow I’ll need a real distraction. Alexander will do.</p><p>I know for a fact that he’d want to go further than snogging. I might not feel alive with him, <em>or</em> in love with him, but it's better than nothing. </p><hr/><h1>SIMON</h1><p>Bloody hell, I overslept. By the time I get up, Baz is already gone.</p><p>I brush my teeth, get hurriedly dressed and run to the dining hall.</p><p>All I can think about is how I wish yesterday was a far away dream. Except, I know it wasn't.</p><p>Penny looks me up and down, worried.</p><p>“Simon, you’re late for breakfast,” she says and then does a double-take, “And what is wrong with your uniform?” I must look awful.</p><p>”I had a fight with Baz,” I say even though I'm not sure it can be counted as that. My gaze wanders towards him. He’s sitting with Niall and Dev, drinking tea leisurely.</p><p>Penny shakes her head slowly. “I would have assumed your priorities are breakfast first, fighting with Basil second.”</p><p>“It wasn’t today. Yesterday afternoon.”</p><p>Penny must have noticed that something is wrong. “Has anything more happened?”</p><p>“No,” I hurry to respond, because nothing did, not exactly.</p><p>How am I to tell Penny that I thought Baz was going to kiss me yesterday? And how much I wanted that to happen. How heartbroken I am that he hates me while I'm hopelessly in love with him.</p><p><em>I'm a colossal loser</em> <em>Baz will never be into</em> is what I want to say.</p><p>“I need to think,” is what I actually say.</p><p>Penny nods. Usually she’d be asking me questions. I appreciate her giving me some space this time — her quiet support.</p><h1>BAZ</h1><p>Snow emerged late for breakfast. He's a complete mess — his shirt isn't buttoned up properly, his tie askew.</p><p>No doubt Bunce was reprimanding him earlier. He said something to her and looked up at me, but I was already looking away.</p><p>I should stop indulging myself by watching him.</p><p>Truth be told I think it <em>can </em>get worse. It did yesterday night when I heard him dream of Wellbelove.</p><p>Something pulls painfully inside my chest at the memory, pulls until it can't hold together anymore. Until it <em>breaks</em>.</p><p>I worry my face might show all the unrest of my undead heart. I take a sip of my tea, to hide my lower lip as it trembles.</p><p>I desperately try to contemplate what to do. My gaze settles on Alexander. He’s still at breakfast.</p><p>Well then. Call it fate. I stand up.</p><p>“Baz—” Niall shouts after me, following my gaze with his eyes. “Should I save you a seat in Political Science?”</p><p>“No need,” I respond more casually than necessarily. I have to keep my feelings about Snow in check. “I’ll be back in a minute — simply making plans for this afternoon.”</p><p>Niall nods while Dev glances at Alexander then at me and rolls his eyes.</p><h1>SIMON</h1><p>This isn’t a good morning. I’m spending it by staring at <em>Baz</em>. He doesn’t look at me of course. He never does. Because I am nothing more than his annoying roommate whom he despises.</p><p>“I’m not hungry,” I say when Penny offers me a buttered up scone. I stab at my plate, not really interested in it.</p><p>She shoves the plate with a scone away. I don’t like letting food go to waste. It’s...well...terrible is what it is. Penny will never understand of course, but I’m starving every summer.</p><p>There is nothing more disgusting than throwing food away. And yet I can’t make myself eat any of it.</p><p>“Simon,” Penny asks and she seems concerned. “Tell me what’s wrong.”</p><p>I shake my head, close my eyes and take a deep breath.</p><p>When I open them again a terrifying scene unfolds in front of me.</p><p>Baz is next to that bloke from yesterday. He is ghosting his fingers erotically over the guy’s shoulder for what feels like an eternity. Or maybe it is just a tap and it might have only been for a second or two.</p><p>Then Baz leans and whispers something in his ear. I wonder if his lips are grazing the bloke's skin. I shouldn't think about that. I do anyway.</p><p>My whole body goes rigid, fist closes and nails dig into the skin of my palm. I avert my eyes, trying to calm down.</p><p>”Simon…” I hear Penny’s voice and it sounds so far away at the moment. ”What is going on?”</p><p>”<em>Nothing</em>,” I reply, avoiding her eyes.</p><p>“Is it still about Baz?” Penny asks and I glare at her even though I know she doesn’t deserve it.</p><p>I can’t handle speaking to her about him. I can’t handle watching him touch someone. I just need to get out.</p><p>“It always <em>is</em> about Baz, isn’t it?” I bark and stand up. “I’ll see you in Political Science.”</p><p>It’s still an hour till the lesson starts and I go back to the Tower, to just get a moment alone, to sort myself out. To try and forget Baz’s hand on that bloke.</p><p>I wonder what they are doing now. Have they left the dining hall together? Are they in the cupboard at the library again?</p><p>Have they done more than snogging? Is that bloke currently on his knees, sucking Baz off? I clench my fists and feel tears prickle in my eyes.</p><p>And then I can't stop thinking about Baz — hard, moaning and gasping. And I want it to be me, to have all of him.</p><p>I feel arousal and shame coil inside me.</p><p>As soon as I walk through the door of our room, I go straight for the ensuite. Even though I know it's a bad idea, a very bad idea.</p><p>I unbutton my trousers, hard and aching for someone I will never have and give myself a slow stroke and then another, picking up the pace.</p><p>I'm not taking my time because I need to get it over with as soon as possible. I want this, but it's too painful at the same time.</p><p>My mind conjures images of Baz’s fingers ghosting over <em>my</em> shoulder, how incredible it would feel.</p><p>When he was so close yesterday, it felt so good. When our shoulders brushed it sent shivers down my spine.</p><p>I can only imagine how good this would have been — his hands on <em>me</em>.</p><p>And then he’d lean in close to my ear. The air from his mouth would be hot and his words even hotter as Baz would whisper, ”Meet me in the cupboard.”</p><p>He’d graze his teeth along my earlobe. I shiver from the thought, while tears fall down my cheeks.</p><p>I come with a shudder and a heavy sob. Then I clean myself up as fast as possible.</p><p>I've never had a wank while crying before. It's not as satisfactory as one might think it is. It leaves me empty and my heart a bit more broken. Ashamed as well.</p><p>My body might be clean now but I can't get rid of disgust inside me, disgust with <em>myself</em>.</p><p>If Baz knew what I just did, he’d punch me or curse me or worse, say something so hurtful that I’ll never get over it. That he’d never want me, never love me. That I'm not worthy of him.</p><p>I know he’d be right. Maybe that’s why my heart is breaking into a million pieces...</p><p>Just as I’m about to leave for class I notice the Sword of Mages is in front of the bed and I'm so shocked, at first I'm not quite sure what to do or to think.</p><p>Eventually I pick the sword up and sheath it. Baz brought it back. My hands start to shake and I almost lose my footing. I sit down on my bed and see my cross lying on my nightstand.</p><p>I forgot about them both. The sight of the cross leaves a bad taste in my mouth. I don’t want to wear it anymore. It’s just… It reminds me of bad things.</p><p>My breathing becomes erratic as a thought occurs to me suddenly.</p><p>Why did Baz bring my things back? Why did he care enough to do so? What does it mean?</p><p>Baz never does anything he doesn’t want to. Even though I try hard not to let hope grow in my heart, I still feel it. What if he doesn’t hate me as much as I thought he does?</p><p>And if that’s true, where does that leave us exactly?</p><p>I can’t think too much about that. First things first. I need to get rid of the cross.</p><p>I leave the Tower and find Agatha on the way to class. “Please, thank your dad for me but I don’t need it anymore,” I say and hand her the cross.</p><p>“Why not?”</p><p>“Turns out, I was wrong about Baz all along,” I confess.</p><p>“You were?” Agatha looks surprised.</p><p>“I was. Baz isn’t a monster.” It’s the truth. Although I know Agatha will think it's about the vampire thing. But it’s not. Baz <em>is </em>a vampire, but he isn’t a monster. I am. But I don't want to be.</p><p>“Oh…” her face almost falls. Did she want him to be evil? Is that how I spent years being too, hoping there was something dark and sinister about Baz? I almost laugh hysterically at my stupidity.</p><p>“Anyway, I’m sorry,” I offer, not knowing what else to say. “See you later, Aggie.”</p><p>“Bye.” She waves her hand.</p><hr/><p>I keep thinking about Baz. That's nothing new.</p><p>I thought he was going to kiss me yesterday or wanted <em>me</em> to kiss <em>him</em>. Then he didn’t, he asked me to kill him instead. (I shudder uncomfortably at the memory.)</p><p>I assumed it’s because he loathes me, detests everything that has to do with me because Baz only sees me as a monster, a killing machine. But he brought my things back. He really didn’t have to do that.</p><p>What if… Maybe he doesn't hate me.</p><p>That doesn't mean that he loves me, of course. I don't have a chance with him. I'm nothing special.</p><p>Unless I can win his love somehow? Is that even possible? What should I do?</p><p>If there was a quest I could go on to win his heart as they do in fairy tales, I’d do it. I would fight anything to prove how much I love him.</p><p>Except something tells me that isn't how one should behave while courting.</p><p>Perhaps I should start by treating him with respect instead.</p><p>Penelope always says that's the foundation of a great relationship. That and honesty.</p><p>But I'm not sure it's a good time to tell Baz that I'm in love with him yet. I'm playing the long game here.</p><p>For now I will try to be respectful of Baz’s choice to kiss whoever he wants. That's step one.</p><p>I won’t ever interfere with any snogging. That sounds easy enough. I have plenty of self-restraint.</p><hr/><p>I find them snogging in the afternoon after class — on the lawn behind a tree for everyone to see. Or maybe it's a different bloke. No, I think it's the same one.</p><p>That just makes me <em>more</em> mad. Why is Baz snogging him a second time? What's so special about him?</p><p>I won’t interfere. He's free to snog whoever he wants. My breathing is already uneven but I can handle it, and just walk away. I can do this.</p><p>But when what's-his-name slides his hands over Baz’s behind and gropes his arse with his grabby fingers, I go completely mental.</p><p>My cheeks are hot and itchy, and that’s always a bad sign. I feel my magic simmer just under my skin. It's getting out of control at a rapid speed; the heavy scent of smoke is spreading like a wild forest fire.</p><p>I promised myself to do right by Baz, not to interfere. But my magic doesn't seem to agree.</p><p>So instead of letting them be I run towards them and pull the bloke off Baz with all my force. I don't think I dislocated anything on him. Although I might not care if I did.</p><p>He glares at me, confused. But before this arsehole gets a chance to open his mouth I scream at him, ”Get lost! Now!”</p><p>He does, of course. Everyone is terrified of me. I don't mind that, not now. As long as Baz isn't afraid of me. And he isn't, he never was.</p><p>Is he that brave or does he simply not see me as a monster as everyone else does?</p><p>Baz doesn't look ruffled or dishevelled. He only raises his eyebrow at me, his stone cold mask of a face unmoved otherwise.</p><p>”Picking fights with innocents are we now?” he asks condescendingly.</p><p>Oh Merlin, realisation of what I've just done dawns on me. I was supposed to respect Baz’s choices. This isn't a good start. But I'm so angry, I have no idea what I'm doing.</p><p>”You shouldn't be snogging him,” is all I can say, hoping Baz won't realize that I'm in love with him.</p><p>I just can’t stand watching him with someone else.</p><p>His face contours and he gives me a bitter laugh. It hurts but at least he's engaging me.</p><p>He sneers, “Do pray tell, why the hell not?”</p><p>“Because… because you shouldn't snog <em>that</em> <em>bloke</em>.” I’m raising my voice again, my mind swirling in all directions. I'm so furious I can hardly think.</p><p>None of them love Baz. I think that's why I've been this angry. It’s not only because I'm jealous. Which I am. I'm practically blinded with jealousy.</p><p>Nevertheless, I only want Baz to be with someone who loves him. That's what he deserves.</p><p>Even if he doesn't love the person back.</p><p>Baz's composure doesn't falter when he asks, ”Whom should I be snogging then, Snow? Since you seem to be an expert on the matter.”</p><p>”<em>Me</em>!” I yell at Baz without thinking, catching us both off guard and watch his eyes widen in shock.</p><p>
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  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thanks for reading. 💙</p></blockquote></div></div>
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